Court Life
by cullencraver
Summary: New lady-in-waiting Isabella feels she isn't in the same league of the other "peacocks" among her.  But perhaps that's because she's something better, more vibrant.


A lick of the lips and flick of the hips, that's court life.

But I wasn't a dainty little peacock like the others. My petticoat never seemed to sit just right, my singing wasn't a lilting birdsong like the others', my walk wasn't a gait but a stumble in heeled slippers, and my laugh wasn't a giggle or a twitter but a blooming blush and exhale through my nose.

Frankly, I was the ugly duckling of the court, _mais c'est la vie. _I'd come to terms with my abnormalities long ago, and, while I was held in high regard enough to be one of the select few ladies in waiting, I came to admire those around me more than myself.

I'd watch the other ladies strut their stuff, giving lusty looks under long lashes and swish their dress hem across the floor just at the right moment, to catch the courtier's or messenger's or even King's attention while he left our chambers.

I heard of the back-alley transactions – a quick moment of heaving and lust resulting in stained undercoats and growing bellies. I watched ladies of court come and go as this one was pregnant or that one was let go for her shame. _Mais pas de moi. _

No one once courted me like they did the other ladies. Given, I'd only been here one month. It was hardly enough to be noticed or paraded about yet, but I still hoped my fears weren't true, that I _was_ an ugly duckling.

_Petite_ Alice Brandon reassured me that it was around the one month mark that the rumors would spread – a new lady in the Queen's court. She said two months would be when the marriage proposals begin flooding in with the suitors, and that three months would be when the rumors and gossips spread. By four months, I'd be forgotten and grouped with all the rest of the ladies: eligible, but nothing fun and new.

I didn't see that happening. Not me. _Pas le vilain petit canard._

* * *

><p>A suck at the bust and at the hips a quick thrust, that's court life.<p>

I knew I was attractive. I also knew "attractive" didn't quite do me justice. I was considerably the most wanted man at court – secretly, at least. Those women who didn't openly fawn at me were resisting so just because they decided they weren't worthy, and settled for someone more attainable.

I didn't mind this slight, it made the pool of options slightly smaller and easier to choose on a nightly basis. Those who did want me came willingly, like a moth to a flame. _C'etait facile._

The King adored me. Despite the fact that I was his most beloved nephew, we were great friends. My mother, his sister, was centuries older than him. The King and I were close in age and closer in friendship. He'd made me Lord d'Alsace last spring and hinted I'd get lands in the south before Yuletide.

Not only did the King trust my judgment in affairs of state, but also in affairs at women. Once a week he'd send me into the Queen's chambers to scout out prospects. Her Highness knew exactly what I was up to, but had to keep a gentle face. She'd never dare cross the King.

It was a Wednesday before supper and the ladies had just returned from a stroll around the gardens. I entered the Queen's apartments to be greeted with the smell of pheromones and a twinge of sweat. The ladies began to giggle and whisper behind their well-lotioned hands as I entered. I saw the corner of the Queen's mouth twitch, but otherwise say nothing.

I made my usual rounds, greeting and flirting with all the usual birds in the menagerie. The peacocks flashed their feathers at me and the pigeons hooted dolefully, wishing I'd grace them with a few kind words.

However, the most amazing thing happened. A couple of the peacocks lowered their fans and revealed behind them a hidden gem. She was no peacock – she was a _phoenix_. _Mon dieu._

How could they dare keep this beauty from me? I was stunned. The others – they were nothing. _Rien_, compared to her.

Their necks too long, like cranes. Their eyes too light and superficial. Their gaits too cat-like, desirous, unladylike. All the things that usually drew me into a woman were a lie.

I made my way over to this lady, almost dream-like, and took her hand before she realized I was approaching her.

"_Enchantez, madame,_" I greeted her, gracing her dainty fingers with a kiss.

The most tantalizing bloom of a blush spread rapidly from her cheeks to her hairline and remained a blaze as I stared into her eyes. _Les yeux marron. _I never saw chocolate eyes so rich, so inviting, so deep.

She stared at me embarrassedly, too shy to speak, waiting for me to make a move. I could tell all the rest of the ladies waited with baited breath to see what I'd do.

"_Au revoir,_" I exhaled, as I stood erect and fled from those apartments.

There was a fire in my heart, rather than in my loins, for the first time and my phoenix called to me.

* * *

><p>I was suddenly the object of gossip within our chambers. The other ladies didn't bother keeping quite as they talked about the fascinating exchange between the Lord d'Alsace and myself. Lady Rochester could be heard across the room, openly complaining about the lack of attention he gave her.<p>

When we met with the King and his men for supper, I kept my head down and my cheeks remained flushed as I ate silently. There was more flutter and whisper at this meal than usual, and I couldn't help but _know_ it was because of me.

I didn't dare look up to find his face, despite how handsome it was. _J'avais peur._

After supper, we planned to spend our afternoon playing croquet and lounging lazily on the greens. On most afternoons, a couple of the King's men would join us with the intention of reading or having a nice chat, but couples would sneak off soon as the Queen's back was turned.

While I hung back from the group of ladies following the Queen's stroll around her private garden, dogs leaping and chasing after them, I heard a soft _psst._

I turned to find a messenger hanging out of a bush on my left. He looked around stealthily, making sure no one saw him. He was the King's private messenger. I knew he was he one sent to collect ladies for his Highness. I tried not to quiver – I'd never been with a man and didn't want to be with the King, but how could I say no?

"Your presence is requested, _madame_," he whispered. I didn't respond, I didn't know how. He looked anxious, like he was afraid of being caught by someone. "_Rapidement! S'il vous plait, madame._"

I sighed and looked around quickly. Ironic, that no one was watching me, while they were all no doubt talking of me.

I slipped into the crack of the hedge and was whisked away, following the messenger and berated with words of "_Venez, venez!_"

He lead me through a side door of the castle and up winding stairs. I knew these passages existed, but rarely took them for I never needed use of them, unlike other ladies, meant to meet gentlemen here.

I expected to be taken through a door and find myself in the King's chambers, but we reached a small square room that seemed more of a hall than a room, with a door on three of the four walls. I was told to wait there, and as the messenger disappeared out one of the doors, I saw it was camouflaged on the other side, so as not to appear as a door.

I waited ten minutes at the least. I stood there awkwardly, nervously, not knowing what would become of me. I twirled in uneven circles, keeping my eyes on the three doors and the tunnel hallway that lead to this room, wondering when someone would appear and from where.

I was squinting down the passageway, imagining I heard noise echoing from down it, when I heard a soft _click_ behind me and I turned in a whirl and let out a gasp as I saw the Lord d'Alsace, his back to the door, pushing it closed silently.

"_Bon soir,_" I said politely, curtseying as should be proper. I knew nothing that was sure to follow would be proper – adultery, that is – but all the ladies talked of how they kept up their façade throughout the whole transaction.

I was waiting to hear, "Follow me," or, "the King's waiting." But he simply stared at me. Not harshly, or determinedly, or appraisingly. His gaze was soft and comforting. It was almost like his eyes were telling me not to be afraid. _Les yeux vert_. They were richer than any of the emeralds I ever saw the Queen wear.

More moments of silence passed as he looked upon me and I took to staring determinedly at the floor, I was starting to feel uncomfortable. I wondered when I'd be abject to the King's whim.

Finally, after what felt like centuries, Lord d'Alsace took a hesitant step forward.

"Speak your mind, lady," he commanded. But it didn't seem so much as a command, more of a request.

"My lord," I said simply, offering another curtsey and still not meeting his eyes.

He let out an exhale that sounded a mix of impatience and amusement.

"_Non,_" he sighed, stepping closer and raising his right arm slowly to hover it above my cheek, not quite stroking it. "_Vraiment,_ speak your mind."

I did not comply. I simply remained staring at the ground, not wanting to misspeak.

"Lady," he sighed, moving his extended knuckle to under my chin and lifting it up so I had no choice but to look directly into his eyes. "This is my secret. No one knows of this chamber save me and my loyal messenger. You will not be overheard. So I beg you, _speak your mind_."

I could see the truth in his eyes; he was serious.

I opened my mouth to speak but simply exhaled, hesitant. Although he assured me these rooms were private, I felt a need to phrase my words the right way, so as not to be misunderstood.

"I am uneasy, my lord," I said quietly.

His eyes tightened slightly with emotion and his soft smile faltered. He let his hand drop from under my chin, and it seemed like the sudden distance pained him slightly.

"I don't mean to impose," he stuttered. I don't think I'd ever heard the Lord d'Alsace without words.

"You're not," I sighed, now unable to break his gaze. His eyebrows knit in confusion. "Speak my mind? _Freely_?" He nodded eagerly like he wanted nothing better than to hear me speak.

I figured the worst that could happen by doing such is being expelled from court. Although it'd be consider treason, I wouldn't meet Lady Guillotine simply for one private sentence.

I took the risk. "I do not wish to belong to _le roi_," I said confidently. He still did not understand.

"Belong to _le roi_?" he asked. "Oh, my lady, I am not hunting for him tonight." He let out a laugh of relief. "_Mon dieu, _no, I have not sought you out for him."

It was my turn to be confused.

"Wha-?"

"_Ma femme,_ I am lovesick," he confessed. I wondered why he chose to tell me of all people. "I usually strut among a flock of peacocks, but in the presence of a phoenix, I am disabled. My legs do not seem to work properly – they are weak, at the knees. And I find myself at a loss for words, I am just rambling now."

I settled for not speaking. I didn't know where we was going with this or what he'd like me to say in return.

"I admit I'm not hard to satiate, but now nothing can sate my appetite. I long for only one thing," he confessed.

He finally dropped my gaze and seemed to focus on his hand, which he lifted from his side again and brought it to gently caress the length of my bodies.

I let out a shaky exhale. There seemed to be a burn left by the trail of his finger. Where its touch grazed my dress, tingling fire was left behind. I felt my womb clench and the supper churn in my stomach. I felt lightheaded, short of breath. I did not know what I was coming over me.

"What's that?" I exhaled. My eyes suddenly unable to look anywhere but his Lord's lips.

He leaned in so that his eyelashes glanced against my cheek and I could feel his slow breath in my ear. "You," he whispered, before taking my earlobe between his teeth. The brief thought of how it was lucky my ears weren't pierced, so that he didn't bite off my earring, was lost within seconds.

I never stumbled so much as when he pushed me backwards. Luckily, the wall was quickly behind my back to stop me from falling. Within that swift movement, his left hand grabbed my backside and brought forward, firmly pressing me into his groin.

His right hand flicked up the pouf of my skirts and fluttered through them to find my bare leg, which he hitched forward and bended so that he was caressing the underside of my thigh.

He pressed me there, against the wall, then pulled his face back from my ear to stare into my eyes. He didn't say anything, and although I could feel the heat of his desire, he waited patiently while both our breaths grew erratic for my acceptance. I could tell that if I rejected him, he'd accept it.

I looked at him a moment longer, memorizing the glint in his eyes and lip trembling with desire, when I met him. I firmly clasped my lips onto his didn't want to let go.

He moaned with pleasure into my mouth and slipped his tongue in to meet mine. His left hand left my back to rustle its way into my skirts and get a firmer grip on uncovered backside.

Suddenly, his right hand slipped from my thigh and was plunged deep within me. I let out a gasp which he stifled with tongue. His fingers began to pull and tug, hooking himself into me and trying to pull me closer.

I couldn't breathe. My breath hardly came and he abandoned his assault on my lips to devour his way along my jaw line and down my neck, settling to suck on the underside of my jaw.

As he did so, his fingers moved furiously, caressing every crook of my insides. I felt like I was being lifted up, and each gasping exhale I let go brought me higher and higher. My mouth felt dry and I needed to fill it.

I let go of the wall where I was clawing it, trying to stabilize myself, to grab his face in both my hands. Our eyes met for a second before I bombarded him with wet kisses.

He tongue was as determined as his fingers. They both seemed to move with a new fury. His fingers clawed greedily and fastidiously while he tongue whirled and sucked, ducked and dodged my own.

I bit down on his bottom lip, hard. He pulled it out of my grasp and I was met with his panting.

"Isabella," he sighed, thrusting his fingers up as hard as he could and actually raising me slightly off the ground.

I let out a shattered moan and gasp.

He struggled slightly as he tried to keep his mind on his right hand but use his left to lower his hose.

Before I knew it, his fingers suddenly slipped out with one last tug and the rest of him slipped in me. With a thrust like a needle being pushed into a garment, I felt him enter me and I let out a shocked groan of pain.

I felt full. Then, slowly, he retracted himself, and it was like I was being emptied, the tiny space left behind cold and barren. But he pushed back with brute force, creating a stronger reaction than his fingers alone. I wouldn't be surprised if my sighs and screams echoed across the castle.

I bit down on his lip with all my might, trying to tell him, "_More_."

He took a deep breath and pumped into me harder, better. He held both his hands firmly on each side of my hips, sliding them down to my thighs and hoisting me higher. My feet no longer touched the ground.

My back was pressed against the wall, although I arched against it, and he let gravity insert himself deeper into me. I hooked my legs around his hips so that I could remain suspended.

He thrust into me, quickly. I let go of his lips and my head flew back against the wall. I gasped for breath, like I were drowning, heaving great breaths of air. He buried his face in the crook of my neck, breathing just as hard against my flesh. He'd occasionally lick my chest as he thrust, harder and harder, flailing me between his body and the wall.

Then, he began to shake violently. His breaths became louder and whinier. He began to grunt. With each pump into me he followed it up with a groan, until finally I was further up the wall than he'd pushed me so far and I could tell, by the noises he made, mixed with the sudden flow and explosion of liquid between us, he'd finished.

My maidenhead ached and pulsed with desire and I tightened my the grasp of my legs around him as he finished.

When he was done, I slackened my hold and he drooped, causing me to slide down the wall and him to collapse over me. He managed to hold me up, against the wall weakly, and rest his forehead on my own. We were both sweaty and panting.

"Again," he sighed.

* * *

><p><strong>The French:<strong>

mais c'est la vie – but that's life / mais pas de moi – but not me / pas le vilain petit canard – not the ugly duckling / c'etait facile – it was easy / mon dieu – my god / rien – nothing / enchantez – nice to meet you / les yeux marron – brown eyes / au revoir – see you later / j'avais peur – i was afraid / rapidement! s'il vous plait, madame – quickly! if you would, madame / venez, venez – come, come / bon soir – good evening / les yeux vert – green eyes / non – no / vraiment – truly / le roi – the king / ma femme – my lady

* * *

><p><strong>AN: <strong>Please review! I'd love to know your thoughts, this is my first lemon!


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